Describe the last time you were surprised by the intensity of a feeling you had about something, or were surprised at how strongly you reacted to something you thought wouldn’t be a big deal.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us INTENSE.

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The 25th of the month has come and gone. Once again, I am reminded of a dull ache in the back of my heart and my head, a resounding silence that reminds me of what we once were. It is a nagging feeling that I carry with me, like not remembering a word that you used often to describe a feeling you wish to forget or a phantom limb that jerks and spasms reminding you of what you once had and will never have again. Or, if replaced, will never be the same appendage.

I remember moments where we anticipated the coming of the hour – forty-five minutes and three hours past noon time. The thrill of presenting items bought for each other, letters written, poems created, songs compiled, images drawn and stories recorded. These were what made the day special and what made every day afterwards even more so. Each action, each trinket a declaration of a love that we thought would never ebb, of a relationship that we swore would never die out. I remember the sound of your voice, every “Oh” , “Wow” and “Thank You” at each presented gift and how, shyly you would share with me mine. I would gush in turn, cry a little and laugh a lot – because somehow your gift connects to mine at the time, or we would both be thinking of the same thought at the moment.

I remember every, I love you Marie.

Do you remember finishing each others’ sentences? Completing each other’s thoughts? And wanting what the other wanted without it being said? You would roll your eyes and call me a copycat, and I would denounce you. We would laugh about it but secretly be pleased at how well we were both so in tune with each other’s thoughts and feelings.

I remember quiet days spent on the phone talking about games we played, movies we watched, books we read together. I remember planning for the future – our marriage, our house, our plans, and our children. 12 wonderful children who will never be given the opportunity to experience the love we were both so eager to share with them. I believe they will find other parents now, people who will care and love for them the way we wanted to do. It may not be us, but I hope, that maybe in some cosmic way they can be a part of each other’s lives still.

I remember the way our bodies aligned. How we were both so happy to have found in each other, a like-minded soul wanting and desiring the same physicality without the fear of being judged. Stories I would write for you, fantasies being played out in the corner of our respective rooms. I remember the heat. How passionate we were, how passionate we used to be.

I remember how intently you would read what little scrap of nonsense I would churn out. A flimsy sonnet, a silly poem, a childish story and how to you they were still wonderful and beautiful. Of how proud you were of me, and how accomplished I was. I remember each time you told me that you were my biggest fan and I in turn would tell you that you were my inspiration.

I remember how aggressively we fought for each other. How we shunned the world and shut ourselves away. I remember how much we cried – when the tides were so strong that it felt like they were ripping our very souls apart. How achingly silent the spaces between our fingertips were and how badly we wished for a touch, a caress and a feeling. How no one understood us. How everyone was wrong and we were right.

I remember the fights. The scathing words thrown at each other that they felt more like knives stabbing at the heart – belying the fact that they more than anything but words. The angry tears of frustration, hurt and disappointment. The self-inflicted pain. Punches thrown against the wall, blades held at the palm of our hands, pills, alcohol – anything to numb the pain, the hollow rage that seems to reverberate within the both of us. I remember all the nights spent hugging my pillow until I fell asleep, awashed by the saline pouring from my eyes and how together, tired and spent from all the fighting we would both just shut our eyes and let go.

I remember letting go, holding on, letting go and holding on – again and again and again until the ties that held us together became thinner and thinner as each event passed. How we were both slipping away from each other but denied the truth in front of our eyes. I remember being tired and letting go, wanting from you something that you were not ready to give me and giving up. I remember you giving up in turn.

And the regret. I remember my regrets.

I remember my regret most of all, because when we both thought to try again – there was something that was already lost from the both of us and how, for all that we went through , we both refused to back down and compromise. And when that moment arrived, that crucial make or break moment, you chose not to make that call and I had to admit that it was over. It was over and I had to let things go.

I had to let you go.

It’s been some months now. You’re with someone else, engaged to be married; I, in a similarly committed relationship, are both living our lives as if the other never existed. We are both living our lives apart, when, once upon a time, we were never more than a couple of seconds or minutes disconnected from each other. I have no wish to break the silence between the two of us, because I do not wish to intrude in the peaceful world that we have both created with other people. I can see how happy she is making you and to be honest, I want you know how happy he is making me feel too. Like you, I have also found someone willing to put up with me and love me without wishing for me to change. I have found someone willing to hold my hand and kiss away my tears, someone to accept me, for all my faults and transgressions. Someone to love me, and love me unconditionally. Someone I am not willing to let go of. It may never be the same you-and-me-against-the-world kind of love that we had, but it is the kind of love that makes me wake up each morning smiling, thankful and content.

I hope that you are similarly at peace and content as I am. Though I know that what I feel for you will never go away, the pain at least and the hurt have both started to fade. There is no more need for blame, or accusation. What happened between the two of us happened because we both chose to let it happen. Equally to thank and equally to blame, we both chose to fight for each other and chose to let each other go.

The only thing that saddens me now is not the loss of my soul mate, but the loss of my best friend, although it is something that I have learned to accept. I know that with the loss of our relationship, our friendship dies along with it. We both meant too much to each other once, that it would be remiss of us to pretend that any semblance of a friendship can survive unscathed from it. All I hope for now is that with this letter – we can both lay each other to rest. And maybe one day, we can run across each other on the street and manage to give each other a small smile and a nod hello before moving on.

Know that I do not begrudge you anything. Far from it. Because of you, I learned that I am capable of a tremendous amount of love, far exceeding the love that I thought I could give to any one person. I thought I was a broken creature incapable of that feeling and unworthy of that affection. Because of you, I am reminded of the contrary and every day for the rest of my life, I will look to my wrist, smile and remember that once upon a time I loved someone so much and so strongly that I willingly carved his name on my flesh and although the boy – the man is no longer a part of me, the memory of what he symbolized will forever be imprinted in my person and live immortalized in my dreams.

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For sure! It’s inspired me to look at writing my Prince Not-So-Charming series … which I was going to begin oh so long ago! I’ve written several letters such as yours in my journal over the years … I’ve found it helps tremendously. xx

Absolutely beautiful and authentic. You have captured those moments so very well … I found myself thinking of the one who had broken my heart so long ago as I read your powerful, heartfelt words. There is something very cleansing in writing it down like you have. Thank you so much for sharing! xx

Thank you for finding the feelings in this letter. I’m glad I was able to make you feel the way I felt when I wrote it. You should do it too. It’s a very cleansing experience and it made me lighter after writing it. I look forward to your version!